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Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 1849-1924

"The Shuttle"

The ill-mannered,
impudently-staring, little New York beast had developed into THIS! Hang
it! No man could guess what the embryo female creature might result
in. His mere shakiness of physical condition added strength to her
attraction. She was like a young goddess of health and life and
fire; the very spring of her firm foot upon the moss beneath it was a
stimulating thing to a man whose nerves sprung secret fears upon him.
There were sparks between the sweep of her lashes, but she managed to
carry herself with the air of being as cool as a cucumber, which gave
spice to the effort to "upset" her. If she did not prove suitably
amenable, there would be piquancy in getting the better of her--in
stirring up unpleasant little things, which would make it easier for her
to go away than remain on the spot--if one should end by choosing to get
rid of her. But, for the moment, he had no desire to get rid of her. He
wanted to see what she intended to do--to see the thing out, in fact. It
amused him to hear that Mount Dunstan was on her track. There exists
for persons of a certain type a pleasure full-fed by the mere sense of
having "got even" with an opponent. Throughout his life he had made
a point of "getting even" with those who had irritatingly crossed his
path, or much disliked him.


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